Emeralds of Agony
by OpheliaMayW
Summary: How a love forged in childhood has agonising consequences for those involved.


'AAAAAAAAAAIIIIEEEEE'

The Queen's screams seemed to rip throughout the whole palace, reverberating through every room. The young princes eyed their old nurse, Lai, warily, and she flashed them a brief smile.

'Do not trouble yourselves, young ones. Your mother will be just-'

A servant burst into the room, her breathing ragged.

'She, she needs more help. We don't know what to do.'

The nurse rose, shooting her a warning look.

'My dear, not in front of…' She gestured to Thor and Loki, sitting by the fire, watching the exchange with wide eyes.

'But will you come?'

'Yes, of course. Children, stay here. Do not leave the room. Do I have your word?'

Both boys nodded silently.

'Very well. Let us go.'

The two women left the room swiftly, and the sound of their frantic voices and hurried footsteps filled the room they left.

Loki looked at Thor uncertainly. 'Mother will be alright, won't she?'

His brother fiddled with the toy horse in his hand. 'How should I know? Probably. Father said when I was born, she cried a lot. And she was fine then. So…'

'Really?' Loki pushed one of his marbles along the floor. 'What about when I was born?'

Thor shrugged. 'I don't know. He didn't say. Can we play War now?'

'Okay.'

'Good. I want to be Father – you can be Laufrey.'

'But I'm always Laufrey!' Loki's voice raised in annoyance.

'Yes, that's because I can win. I'm better at fighting than you.'

Loki scowled. And, as always, relented.

'All-Father, you should not be here.' The two women reached the Queen's bedchamber, panting, and bowed quickly to the King as he paced outside.

'They say she is- that she will not- I cannot stay away!' He wrung his hands in agitation.

Lai briefly rested her hand on her king's forearm.

'My lord, I was there at Thor's birth. I promise, I will help her.'

She slipped inside, the servant following her, and Odin closed his eyes, lips moving silently as he prayed.

Hours passed. Many times, after the Queen had let out an exceptionally wild scream, Odin had to resist from throwing open the door. But for the last half hour there had been no screams, just the murmurings of the servants and sound of their footsteps. The All-Father sat in the corridor, his head in his hands. And then, the most painful sound he had ever heard burst from the room. The Queen's sobs, wracking through him like a physical pain, as he heard her gasp for breath. He could bear it no longer, and burst through the doors. Taking in the scene before him with wild eyes – his Queen, his beloved, laying in the midst of her bed, the sheets soaked crimson. Her body convulsing, her face white as death, bent over a bloody bundle in her lap.

'No, please, please, please. Anything but this. I beg you-'

Her eyes raised, and she openly wept to see her husband standing there.

'Odin. Odin, our baby. Our sweet girl-' She drew a gasping breath, sobs wracking her body.

Lai wrapped an arm around the Queen's shoulders, and Frigga pressed her face into the woman's chest, silently weeping.

For weeks, the palace and Asgard alike mourned. What was meant to be a joyous day, meant to be a celebration of the birth of the princess the King and Queen had so longed for, became one of the darkest in the land's memory. The subjects flooded to the palace gates, laying flowers which became a knee-deep carpet, a riot of colour and scent. But their beauty could do nothing to heal the pain the royal family experienced. The Queen had not left her bed, and refused all but the plainest of food. The All-Father sometimes sat at her bed-side, their grief enveloping the space around them, filling the gap that no words could fill. And the princes, who their mother could not bring herself to see, were completely bewildered. Their father had explained that there was no new baby sister for them to meet, and something in his eyes stopped even Thor from demanding why. He told them their mother needed to rest, and they should try to play mostly outside, where they would not disturb her.

They complied, but both were much quieter and withdrawn during this period. Lai watched each member of the family quietly – she was the only servant the Queen wished near her during this time. It was true, Lai had been at her side attending at Thor's birth, and had cared for both Princes during their infancy. Even though they were now both approaching 6 and 7 respectively, and believed themselves to be much more independent than they actually were, it was Lai's story-telling that still held them captive, she who had healed many a scraped knee or bloody nose over the years. She watched the pain and misery in their parents grow each day, and could hardly bear it. One day, she came to a decision. Visiting the All-Father in the throne-room, she spoke of her plan.

'Will you permit me to try?'

Odin sighed a heavy sigh, and nodded, his eyes brimming with emotion.

'Anything to heal this pain. To heal my wife. Thank you, Lai.'

Lai nodded, bowed, and left the palace.

She returned one week later, wrapped in a heavy travelling cloak. She had finally found what she had been looking for. She walked hastily through the palace at dawn, eyes cast downward, avoiding the guard's curious glances. Arriving at the Queen's bedchamber, she hesitantly pushed open the door. The Queen lay still, but Lai knew it was unlikely that she would be sleeping. She barely had been. Lai stepped into the room, and the Queen stirred, lifted her head from the pillows and looked towards the door.

'My Queen.'

Frigga inclined her head, her eyes barely registering anything around her. She reached for the chalice of water next to her bed, taking a few sips. Even this small effort seemed too much for her, as she sank back into the pillows, exhausted.

'My Queen, I have someone for you to meet. Please let me speak before you react.'

Lai beckoned behind her, smiling.

A young girl – she could not yet be 3, stepped into the room behind her. A halo of blonde curls shone around her face, and her blue eyes sparkled, ringed with red. She tugged at her tiny gown with her fists, and moved to stand close to Lai.

'This is Nina, my lady. She is the daughter of Lina, an old friend of mine, an old friend whose husband's habits drove them into squalid poverty, beyond the city's walls. I spent years searching for her, hoping that he had mended his ways, that he would finally provide for his wife. But this was not the case. Instead, I found her in a more hopeless state than before, as she was now pregnant. I begged her to come within the city's walls, that I would find her a home for her and her un-born child, a safe place. But she refused. She loved her husband, and I could talk no sense into her. We argued. And so I left. I was bitter that she refused my help, that she could not see what was so plain to everybody else. A year ago, I received a letter from her. A letter that spoke of great anguish, of confusion and regret. She felt that she had failed her child, her husband and her friends. She did not know what she could do anymore, and felt that she had no purpose in this life. I was terrified, and made immediate plans to travel to her. But this was during the winter when the great plague swept our city, and nobody was allowed in or out. I fretted for weeks, unable to even reply to her letter. By the time the curfew was lifted, and I raced to her home, it was too late. She had hung herself, believing to be an unfit mother. I believe those thoughts stemmed from her cruel and abusive husband. He was nowhere to be found, and I feared the worst for their child. I found from her neighbour that she child had been placed within the care of an old woman, who looked after orphaned and abandoned children. I visited her there, this tiny, delicate little girl with nobody in the world. I paid the old woman handsomely, promising monthly payments if the girl was raised with care. I do not believe any of the children were treated cruelly, but there was a lack of warmth in that place. Once they reached a certain age they would enter servitude, and I wanted to ensure this would not happen to Nina. My guilt for not saving Lina manifested itself into a campaign to ensure nothing would happen to her daughter. I checked on her whenever I could. And though I had the promise that she would not be sent to work young, I feared for her future. And when tragedy afflicted another family, another woman who I love as deeply as I did Lina, I wished to attempt to heal this pain. Your pain. Your daughter will never be replaced, my Lady. This is not my intention. But two broken fragments of family could be aided and healed by the other. I have no doubt of that.'

The Queen had regarded Lai silently as she recounted her tale, but had shifted so she now sat on the side of her bed, her eyes occasionally flicking to look at the child, who watched the floor all the while. After Lai had finished, there was a pause, and the girl looked up at her, chewing her lip.

Frigga cleared her throat, having barely spoken for the past month, and when she did now her voice was merely a whisper.

'Child.' Nina looked nervously up at her, blue eyes wide. 'Come here.'

Nina looked up at Lai, who smiled encouragingly and pushed her gently forward. She stepped towards the Queen, who stretched out a hand, placing it gently on her cheek.

'You have no need to be afraid here. There is nothing that will harm you. This is a place of peace, not pain.' The child's eyes flickered to where Frigga's jewellery lay on the table next to her bed, sparkling in the sunlight.

'Would you like to see?'

Nina nodded, and the Queen lifted a necklace, its stones swaying from her hand. Emeralds and jet, encased within silver settings. She watched Nina's expression change from anxiety to enchantment, as she hesitantly stretched out a delicate hand to hold the end of the necklace.

'Would you like to see some more?'

Nina nodded, captivated.

'Lai?' Frigga looked towards her most caring servant, and the two women shared a look of utter understanding. 'Thank you.'

'My lady.' Lai bowed, waving a goodbye to Nina and left the room.


End file.
